InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Love's Smirking Revenge ❯ Sound Off ( Chapter 2 )

Love's Smirking Revenge

- Chapter Two -

Sound Off

The news room at the Asahi Shimbun building was a veritable hive. Each part worked in accordance with the rest to form a living, breathing, news machine. Within the central command centre, row upon row of overflowing desks were occupied by frantic journalists attempting to get their articles completed for the evening press.

Journalist Kagome Higurashi was just one of many worker bees within Asahi Shimbun's hive. Hunched over her desk, she typed furiously on her laptop, her fingers whizzing across the keys in an attempt to get her latest piece finished on time. Pausing mid-keystroke to re-check a fact, she gnawed unconsciously on the gel pen wedged between her teeth.

This latest piece would publicize a government spending scandal. According to an inside source, a Senator and his cronies paid some yakuza goons to rig the upcoming election and `take care' of the competition. There would be hell to pay, what with lawsuits and character defamation claims, but she was confident in her sources and knew her boss would back her up. He loved the publicity her stories brought the paper and it didn't hurt that readership had increased three percent since she'd started writing for him the previous October.

Spitting out her pen, she took a hasty sip from the energy drink resting atop a stack of file folders at her side and resumed typing. She was so absorbed in her work she didn't hear the secretary page her over the intercom.

“Kagome Higurashi, please call reception, Kagome Higurashi...”

A few moments later a copy of the morning paper slammed down onto her desk. It succeeded in knocking a large stack of file folders and newspaper clippings to the floor in a giant fluttering heap. Kagome narrowed her eyes at the horrible grainy picture of herself staring placidly up from the headline of page six.

She'd been forced to submit the photo to HR so it could be placed next to her pieces. The paper had a thing about giving a face to the voice of their journalists. It all had to do with some PR garbage about connecting with the readers on a more personal level, or something like that. She couldn't have cared less. Frankly, she was certain her work spoke for itself. Unfortunately, while she was preening her reputation as a serious journalist, this damn picture continued its daily circulation around Japan - she looked about twelve and completely incapable of handling a piece about a local lemonade stand, let alone a hard hitting front page story.

Kagome lifted her gaze from the pages of the newspaper to meet a pair of blazing amber eyes glowering down at her. The owner of said eyes had a scowl marring his unshaven face. Not easily intimidated, she sat back in her chair, crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.

“Can I help you?”

If being a bitch was an Olympic sport, she would've won the gold medal.

Detective Takahashi smirked at her as he leaned forward to jab his finger at the article facing upside down on her desk.

“You Kagome Higurashi?” he asked rhetorically. With the picture right in front of him it was fairly obvious who she was.

Her likeness to the small photo was uncanny. As he eyed her down in the flesh, the fog in his brain began to clear and he realized, if a little belatedly, that he recognized her. She was the damned lieutenant who'd brought him the coffee. How could he have missed it before? Well, the drunken stupor he'd been in might've had something to do with it…

“So what if I am?” she demanded haughtily, her red pump tapping impatiently against the polished linoleum floor.

“I got a few words of advice for ya. Watch what you're writing in here. You don't know who you're dealing with,” he warned, his tone low and serious.

Kagome scoffed and stood up. The wheels of her chair squeaked nosily in protest as it was roughly pushed backwards. Resting her weight on her fingertips she held his gaze and leaned forward across her desk until their faces were inches apart.

She could smell the alcohol on his breath and smirked at the realization that he'd indulged in a liquid breakfast. It was probably an excellent chaser to his liquid dinner by the look and smell of him. He was nothing but a washed up old hack with a score to settle. He may have been a hero back in the old days, but this was a different time and in the fast paced modern world no one waited for hero's to find themselves, they just moved on to new ones.

She fixed the Detective with a condescending glare and openly castrated him, not bothering to lower her voice.

“Ah yes…the great Detective Takahashi. I was going easy on you with this article. Cross me, and you'll have your reputation demolished before you can say `severance pay.'”

He smiled at that comment and she was surprised to see a row of perfectly white teeth gleaming at her from behind his chapped lips. Considering how the rest of him looked - angry and dishevelled - she'd expected them to be a pleasant shade of yellow.

“Listen babe-,”

“The name's Higurashi, get it straight,” she interjected, glowering at his purposefully sexist reference.

“Yeah, whatever doll… Look, the point is this - I've got an investigation to run and I don't need any prissy little reporters poking their noses in where they don't belong. I should have you arrested,” he threatened, gesturing to the article, “for interfering in a police investigation and posing as an officer.”

A smug smile tugged at his lips as he took in the look of shocked surprise that flashed briefly across her features. With the confident air of a shoddy poker player hiding three aces up his sleeve, he eased himself down onto a weathered office chair and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head.

Apparently she hadn't considered that he might recognize her from the previous night. That was her underestimation, her mistake, and he enjoyed watching the flush of embarrassment creep up her neck immensely.

“Don't play games with me,” she seethed, her voice steely and calculating as she pointed her finger angrily at his chest. “I know as well as you do that no one is going to arrest me, much less prosecute me, for writing that article. The only one pissed about it is you. So if you don't have anything else to say to me, you can leave. I'm on a rather strict deadline.”

With a dismissive snort, she seated herself at her desk and hastily picked up where she'd left off at her laptop. The sound of the keys clacking echoed noisily in the dead air between them. Sensing that he was watching her, she glanced up hesitantly to find his amber eyes boring into her skull. With a sigh of resignation she set aside her laptop, yet again, and leaned her elbows on the desktop.

“Look, if you wanna set the record straight, do a proper interview. You haven't made a single comment to the press in over five years. Not since that homicide back in 2001…”

Kagome faltered slightly when she saw the Detective's face darken at the mention of the case. It'd been one of his first high profile cases and he'd utterly botched it. It was no fault of his own of course. The red tape and politics surrounding the murder had bogged the investigation down from the start, but he was never quite the same afterwards.

For a while he'd openly blamed the press for letting the killer get away and then he just disappeared off the radar all together. From the look of him it hadn't been a pleasant five years.

“All I'm saying,” she continued, “is that there's a lot more to the story than you're letting on. The people of Tokyo have a right to know what's happening in their city. If you become my source, I'll give you final say on whatever I write. It's a win, win situation. I think you'll be hard pressed to find a better offer from anyone else.”

She crossed her arms expectantly and cocked her head to the side as she studied him. His face remained closed off and dark as he mulled over her proposal. She noticed his fingers tapping anxiously against the moulded plastic arm rest of the office chair and hoped it was a good sign. Landing a source like Inuyasha Takahashi would be the best career move she'd ever made!

Her eyes panned lazily up to the clock and widened as she realized her deadline was fast approaching. Muttering a curse, she returned to typing furiously and finished her article with a resounding flourish. Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked up to find the Detective pushing his chair back under the desk he'd taken it from.

As he turned to go, she called out to him.

“Pick me up at seven.”

“Huh?” he started, sending a confused look over his shoulder.

“We're having our first interview tonight. Pick me up here at seven and we'll go to dinner… Oh, and try to wear something half decent.”

With this last comment she trailed her eyes disapprovingly over his attire and shook her head. With a derisive snort and a muttered `yeah whatever', he turned heel and strolled out of the news room.

Emerging from the building onto the street below, he squinted up at the grey clouds overhead and put a cigarette to his lips. Taking a slow drag he surveyed the pedestrian traffic along the sidewalk before casually leaning back against the ruddy brick of the building.

Just what the hell had he gotten himself into? It'd been a long time since he'd had a woman put him in his place and even longer since he'd had a decent dinner date with one. Well, at least the broad was attractive, even if she was the world's biggest bitch.

“Shit,” he cursed before sucking in final drag. Flicking his cigarette into the gutter, he turned up his collar and rammed his hands into his coat pockets. With a quick glance over his shoulder he set his face into a grim scowl and stalked down the street towards the nearest shopping centre.